


Old Friends

by agerefandom (tazia101)



Category: Calvin & Hobbes
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, College Age Calvin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, We Need Some Better Age Regression Tags, agere, college stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/agerefandom
Summary: Calvin is home from college and struggling with the pressures of school, the questions from his parents, and the expectations of where he's supposed to be at his age. An old friend might have some advice to offer.
Relationships: Calvin & Hobbes (Calvin & Hobbes)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr account, @agerefandom. I'm always taking requests from sfw blogs for age regression fics and headcanons, so feel free to drop by! Calvin has been one of my comfort characters since I was about six years old. 
> 
> I use non-sexual kink tags because AO3 doesn't have a great system for tagging age regression yet, and I hope I can popularize the 'agere' tag for the future. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Visiting home never got easier.

Calvin closed the door to his room and leaned against it with a sigh, glad to finally be alone.

His parents were trying: trying to be understanding, trying to be patient. His dad showed it by asking endless questions about Calvin’s courses and his grades, his mom showed it by making all of his favourite meals and fussing over his diminishing weight. It was both familiar and painful by his third year of college, the way that visits home twisted his stomach. Calvin could tell how worried they were about him, living alone in the big city and switching his major yet again.

Calvin flopped onto the bed and pulled a pillow over his head so that he didn’t have to look at his old bedroom.

It was still set up as it had been when he was a teenager, the posters and collectables layered on the walls and shelves. His worst test marks were still hidden behind his desk, crumpled against the wall. High school had been nonstop panic, his parents’ growing anxiety about his grades mixing with Calvin’s ever-shifting life goals. Being back in this room was enough to make him feel like he was back in that time, running from what felt like failure to failure.

As a college student Calvin had finally started finding ways of studying that worked better for him, taking fewer classes and hosting chaotic study sessions with friends where they spiralled into unrelated discussions and then back to the topic at hand, managing to cover most of the material over the course of several boxes of pizza and the occasional YouTube sidetrack. He was getting better grades, but that didn’t exactly help him figure out what courses he wanted to focus on.

Film studies, creative writing, drama, archeology, psychology, a parade of interests that pulled Calvin in all directions from month to month. He knew that he should probably take a year or two off from school, but in his head that would mean that he was giving up. So he snapped at his parents whenever they suggested it, however much he thought about it in his free time. 

“Ugh.” Calvin rolled over again onto his back, stared up at the uneven white paint on his ceiling. Why did he need to have an existential crisis every time he came home? At college he felt _normal_ , surrounded by friends who were taking degrees at their own pace and struggling with adulthood in their own ways. His parents seemed to think that it should all be so simple, and Calvin felt uncomfortable in his own skin here, caught between the teen in crisis and the adult still trying to figure out how to set his own rules.

Calvin finally sat up, impatient with the spiral of his thoughts. Maybe he should go back early, tell his parents that he wasn’t getting enough homework done. Make up a doctor’s appointment he’d forgotten.

As Calvin straightened, his eyes caught on the Lord of the Rings figurines scattered across a bookshelf, grey with dust. Clothes were piled on top of the dresser, old shirts he’d left behind when he moved into his apartment. Out of one of the piles was poking a familiar ear.

Calvin’s feet were moving before he thought about it, tugging Hobbes from the heap of clothes and holding him out at arm’s length to examine him.

Hobbes’s face was familiar, eyes that Calvin’s mom had re-sewn over and over, down-turned mouth and arms outstretched as if ready for a hug.

How could he refuse? Calvin hugged the stuffed animal to his chest, took the two steps back to the bed and curled up top of the covers.

Hobbes was smaller than he remembered, pressed under Calvin’s chin. Hobbes had been big enough to use as a pillow when Calvin was a child, warm and fuzzy and purring in front of the fireplace. Big enough to sprawl over the bed, taking up too much time in the summer and hogging the blankets in the winter.

_I miss you_ , Calvin thought, and rubbed his chin against one of Hobbes’s velvety ears. _I miss our adventures_.

Hobbes had always liked hugs, squeezing back with warm abandon. He didn’t like being squished, though, and Calvin could almost imagine Hobbes squirming in his arms, trying to get his head free.

Calvin stifled a laugh and loosened his grip, letting Hobbes sit on his chest. The stuffed animal looked disgruntled, his fur pushed the wrong way and one ear bent. Calvin grinned up at him, a wave of fondness and rightness wrapping around him. He opened his mouth to speak and then hesitated.

This seemed like a point of no return. To bring Hobbes into his present would change something. Calvin wasn’t sure what, but once he spoke, there would be no taking it back.

Hobbes felt heavy on top of Calvin’s chest, heavy with history and concern, his eyes focused on Calvin and his tail twitching impatiently.

“Hi.” The shyness was unexpected, but it had been so long. Did Calvin even remember how to play? Would Hobbes be the same as he was? “Sorry I didn’t bring you a sandwich.”

Hobbes grinned and pounced, his claws sharp against Calvin’s cheek. The two of them rolled on the bed, a mess of limbs and laughter, pushing against each other and trying to get the upper hand. The tousle ended when Hobbes shoved Calvin off the bed. Calvin landed with a heavy thump and looked up just in time to see Hobbes lose his balance, falling onto Calvin’s chest with a shout. He curled up on top of Calvin, fixing his ear and pretending everything had gone according to plan.

“Calvin? Are you alright? I heard a crash!” Mom’s muffled voice came up the stairs.

“Yeah mom, I dropped a textbook!” Calvin yelled back. “It’s fine!”

“Be more careful…” Mom’s voice faded as she retreated, probably to the living room.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” Calvin grumbled.

“And you’re a stinkyhead,” Hobbes retorted, a claim that was undermined by the low rumbling purr in his chest. “You owe me twenty tuna sandwiches and a bath, do you know how dusty those clothes were? Blech.” Calvin laughed, letting his head fall backwards onto the floor.

“Sure, I’ll buy you a bunch of tuna and you can forget to eat it like you always do.”

Hobbes shrugged carelessly and then slid off Calvin’s chest, stretching with a sigh. “What are we doing? My back is sore from all that sitting.” He straightened and rubbed at his lower back, frowning.

“I haven’t been to the woods for a long time,” Calvin offered. “We could go and have a tree climbing contest?”

“I always beat you.” Hobbes paced around the room, looking around curiously. “But I could always beat you again.”

“You do not always beat me!” Calvin crossed his arms. “You cheat!”

“What an accusation! I would never!” Hobbes stuck out his tongue, and Calvin reached up from the floor to push his shoulder.

“You cheat at everything, you even cheat at Calvinball.”

“Cheating is allowed in Calvinball!”

“Not for _you_. It’s only allowed for me.”

Hobbes huffed and sat down beside Calvin, his tail brushing against Calvin’s wrist. There were several seconds of companionable silence.

Calvin breathed in, feeling suddenly more peaceful than he had in years. He could still feel all the worries he’d been having minutes before, but they felt distant and unimportant. Hobbes was here, which meant the biggest concern was the next adventure, the next cartoon, the next experiment. But for now, he could just lie here with his friend, and the world would pause for a second to let them be together.

The days were long, and the summers were made for splashing in puddles, and he should have known that Hobbes would always be here for him.

“I missed you.” Calvin said it out loud this time, opening his eyes to look over at his friend.

Hobbes turned his head, and his eyes were shiny. Calvin had forgotten that Hobbes was a happy crier, and was surprised to feel matching tears in his own eyes, tears of relief. 

“I missed you too.” Hobbes sighed. “I knew you would be back when you needed me, though.”

“I always need you, dummy.” Calvin rubbed the tears from his eyes and held out his arms. Hobbes pressed against him, and this was exactly how hugs from Hobbes had always felt, like the world was safe and Calvin wasn’t alone, as if they could stay like this forever and never get tired of it.

And maybe they could, after all.


End file.
